The Big Switch-a-Roo
by JulieArchery107
Summary: It all started with a simple bet made by John in a attempt to make his best friend stop shouting the word 'bored' to heavens above... and ended up with Sherlock and Mycroft swapping their respective jobs for an entire month. How will the elder Holmes brother cope with all the 'Legwork? How will Holmes the younger cope with the lack of it? Why not find out? ;)
1. Chapter 1

"The Big Switch-a-roo."

Chapter 1

"It all started with a bet..."

It all started on a typical normal day of one crime fighting dynamic duo, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, in a typical normal everyday fashion.

The tall dark haired detective was laying slouched on his couch having a silent conversation with his skull about god knows what, Ms. Hudson was upstairs watching a soap-opera that Sherlock spoiled for her a week ago, and the good doctor was in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to finally sing the 'Aria of boiled water'.

Or, in other words, the day was progressing fairly normally until Sherlock got _bored_.

"Bored!" He lamented, wherever it was to Skully or John is up to interpretation, while glaring at the sealing.

"Read a _book_!" John called back to his flat-mate, the tone of his voice betraying his annoyance at the detective's childish actions.

To his surprise he can actually _hear_ Sherlock _get up_ , stomp over to the bookshelf and pull out one of the think tomes of dictionaries that he had stuffed there.

 _He must be **really** bored then_. The army doctor thought to himself just as the kettle decided the water was hot enough for tea. Not a minute later, the book the younger Holmes tried to read, _smacked_ against the wall with a loud ' _thud_ ', making John spill a bit of the hot liquid over his fingers.

" _Boring_!" He _bellowed_ this time, repeating his stomping cycle back to the couch and dropping into it like a sack of potatoes, which is actually quite amazing considering his nearly non-existent weight.

"Then get a _real_ job!" John hissed glaring at the wall that separated him from his best friend, while also rubbing the burning sensation away with his left hand. "And pick up that book!"

"As a _what_? A _waiter_?" The overgrown, infuriating yet brilliant, toddler had the nerve to ask while _deliberately_ ignoring the order to clean up the mess he made.

"At least it would have a steady income _and_ a schedule which would limit your 'I'm-so-bored' time." The blogger muttered under his breath as he placed the two cup on a tray, and began carrying it over to the living room. " _Unlike_ what you're doing _now_."

Sherlock snorted at that.

"Forgive _me_ for being _dependent_ on the _creativity_ of modern day _criminals_ , John." He added sarcastically, glaring at the blond doctor from his spot on the couch. "Maybe I should send a 'please-use-your-brain-more-while-you-murder-and-steal' cards to all the local crime bosses, to up the level of their competence?"

His companion reacted with placing the tray on the tea-table with a bit more force than necessary.

"Correct me if I'm _wrong_ , oh-so- _great_ -Holmes, but, the way _I_ see it, you wouldn't _have_ such a problem, if you weren't so unbelievingly _picky_ about the cases you've been taking!" Clearly Watson has had _enough_ of being the _only_ grown-up in this apartment that brings regular paychecks.

"If I wasn't _picky_ , as you call it, we would be stuck chasing _purse-stealers_ and finding lost _puppies_ in dark alleys." Sherlock deadpans.

"Okay, fine!" John threw his hands up in frustration. "Maybe taking _every single_ case the Yard could offer _wasn't_ such a _good_ idea, I'll grant you that." He then poked his finger in the detective's bony chest. "But that doesn't mean you can _stop_ searching for a different job to work in between cases!"

"And what, pray tell, would _your_ perfect job for me _be_ , then?" Sharp blue eyes glared at the smaller man from between chocolate locks. "Go _ahead_." He challenged. "List them out for me, I _dare_ you."

John huffed, his face reddening.

"Oh I'm _sure_ there is a _multitude_ of other things you could be doing." The doctor snarled back. "Like, why don't you go working for the government like your brother?"

Another snort escaped Sherly's mouth.

"As a _pencil-pusher_?" He looked at John with a disgusted look on his face. "I'd die of _boredom_ the _minute_ I'd walk through the doorframes of my office."

"Mycroft works for the Government." Watson repeated himself through gritted teeth. "And he's just as, if not more so, smart as you are." The blond surgeon actually grinned seeing the detective's eyes narrow at the mention of his sibling. "We saw him just yesterday, Sherlock and he didn't look _dead_ to me."

The younger Holmes snarled and turned away.

"I'm not as boring as Mycroft is." He muttered in Skully's direction. "As he allows himself to be."

"No." John shook his head. "You're just not as _mature_ as he is." He then fixated his blue eyes challengingly at the back of his flat-mate's head. "It's _not_ the fact that his job is _boring_ or _uninteresting_ , that keeps you away from it, Sherlock. It's because it involves _rules_ , _schedules_ and _consequences_ , things you _never_ lived by nor respected, that you won't even touch it with a _stick,_ if you had the choice. _No_." The doctor said sternly and Sherlock's mouth snapped shut, cutting of anything he was about to say in his own defense. " _Don't_ try to say that your actions have actual cocequences, Sherlock, because we _both_ know that _Mycroft_ takes care of those as well, along with your half of the rent and all the damage control."

Seeing that he now had Sherlock's full attention, he took a deep breath before saying:

"And I am willing to _bet_ that _you_ wouldn't last a _month,_ if you swapped places with him."

Silence rang through the apparent.

It lasted a whole minute before the younger of the Holmes siblings suddenly got up, grabbed John's phone that laid on the coffee table, and retreated to the kitchen, probably to make a phone call to a certain Civil Servant.

Noticing that, so far everything has been going according the plan, the army doctor allowed his tense body to rest on his armchair, silently rejoicing at his victory.

It wasn't until he caught the words 'Can you switch jobs with me, brother-dear?' that he realized that, perhaps he didn't think this plan through…

* * *

AN: Hi! It's me again, with another 'Sherlock' story! :D Fans of 'Catcroft' and 'Coming of the Ice King' shouldn't worry, chapters to those respective stories are being polished and shouldn't take long ;). This idea just wouldn't let me focus on anything unless I write it down *sights* being me is hard -_-


	2. Chapter 2

"The Big Switch-a-roo."

Chapter 2

"The Holmes boys discuss playgrounds."

"You can't be serious."

Was the first thing that came out of Mycroft's mouth as he, rather predictably, walked through the door of their Baker Steer flat not ten minutes later, making John thank the Lord above that the elder Holmes is actually the 'Smart One' of the two and will now promptly put a stop to this ridiculous idea of his, before it has the chance to put the entire Free World in danger.

"Oh but I've never been more serious in my life, brother-mine." Sherlock says, glaring daggers at his blogger from his favorite seat, silently reminding him whose idea it was in the first place.

"Really?" John can't blame the politician for sounding as doubtful as he does, when he takes a seat in the doctor's armchair, he'd be hard-pressed to believe the Consulting Detective could be serious about something that isn't a case too. "How so?" He added while also nodding his head in agreement to the army-medic's question if he'd like some tea.

"You can say it's a matter of pride." Sherlock's steely eyes never stopped tracking John's movement as he watched the smaller man disappear in the kitchen again, following him even after the wall obscured his vision.

"Indeed?" Mycroft inquired, playing absent-mindly with his umbrella. "Do tell."

"John thinks _I_ wouldn't last a _month_ as the embodiment of the British Government." The younger Holmes whines to his older brother, as if he was a child tattling on a bully who told him he _couldn't_ do something he _obviously_ could, while pouting at John who was handling Mycroft his tea and rolling his eyes at his flat-mate's antics.

Perhaps Sherlock was expecting Mycroft to disagree with that statement and _scold_ the innocent blogger for even _thinking_ such a though, because he did look rather shocked when all the elder man did was raise an eyebrow and say:

"And the _untruthfulness_ of that statement comes _where_ exactly?"

"Mycroft!" The little brother _screeched_ , looking at his sibling with a betrayed look in his eyes.

"I am truly sorry, brother-dear, but I _have_ to side with Doctor Watson on this one." The politician shrugged. "Considering your violent, and rather childish, character traits and constant disregard of rules and general authority, I can safely say that _my_ playground is a place you'd _wholeheartedly_ struggle to survive in for a _week_ , let alone an entire month. Also, what is quite beside the point," He then paused and fixed his brother with the coldest stare he could muster, without seeming downright murderous.

"What makes you think I'd let you anywhere _near_ anything as powerful and influential, as my _minor_ position in the British Government?"

The younger Holmes reacted by simply putting on his ugliest scowl and turned away to Skully, in order to sulk for the rest of the day.

Feeling that the battle of wits was won, Mycroft allowed himself to simply rest his back against the armchair and admire the, lukewarm but still delicious, Earl Grey. John simply breathed a sigh of relief knowing that another crisis, one which was nearly caused by _himself_ , was avoided and the world was left safe for another day.

It could have ended here and it probably should have but, as luck would have it, Sherlock's luck was just as random as he himself is as, at that very moment, he was gifted with a _great_ idea.

In a move that missed only his iconic coat, he twirled around and placed his hands on the armrests of the armchair his brother was occupying in such speed that it startled both Mycroft and John.

"If I _promise_ to spend the following month on _quality time_ with our _parents_ , will you agree to switch jobs with me, Mycroft?" It was but a whisper but both men heard the Detective as clearly as if he just screamed those lines from the top of the Baker Street building.

John's eyes widened and promptly turned to look at the elder Holmes, his stomach sinking ever so slightly when he was that Mycroft appeared to actually be _considering_ it.

Oh _god_ , no. The doctor cursed himself and his lack of precaution.

He should have _known_ Sherlock was going to pull something like this, the idea was actually elementary: knowing that the elder sibling was constantly trying to make the Detective spend more time with their parents, using time he'd spend with them as a bargaining chip, Sherlock was sure to get _anything_ he wanted in return.

 _Please don't say yes, Mycroft._ John begged in his mind. _You know this will end in a catastrophe, don't let the bribe get to you! It's not worth the dozens lives Sherlock is bound to destroy if you say 'yes'!_

But the prayers were left unanswered.

"An entire month?" The elder Holmes asked, quietly as if in disbelief.

"Thirty days." The Detective nodded his head solemnly. "No more, no less."

"Plays? Movies? Dinners?"

"Whatever they want." Sherlock conceded, his voice desperate as he stepped back from his older brother's personal space. "Just give me this _one_ month to prove myself, Mycroft." He practically begged.

After a minute of tense silence that followed, ignoring the terrified beat of John's heartbeat, the elder Holmes got up from his chair and walked up to his little brother.

"Granted." He spoke his voice steady, earning him the largest smile he ever saw on Sherlock's face.

John couldn't help but feel as if the faith of the entire world was being sealed along with the aforementioned deal, with the simple act of a handshake.

They were all doomed.

He was sure of it.

* * *

AN: Back again! :D Have fun reading! Be ready for more soon! ;)


	3. Chapter 3

"The Big Switch-a-roo."

Chapter 3

"John's whining leads him to discover something about Mycroft."

"I hope you're happy." John grumbled to the man sitting on the opposite armchair, polishing a knife that wouldn't look out of place in those 'assassin' games the kids play these days. "You successfully _doomed_ us all."

"Whatever do you mean by that, Dr. Watson?" Mycroft asked, his tone light and innocent, as if he _didn't_ just give the most unstable man in London power to control an entire _Country_ , if not, the World in its _entirety_.

"Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you." His sandy haired companion, scolded. "And it's _John._ We're going to be flat-mates for a _month,_ I'm not letting you call me by my _job title_ that entire time."

"If that will make you happy, then so be it." The older Holmes brother simply smiled that infuriating dominating smile he was known for, which successfully managed to irritate the doctor even more than he already was. "I just didn't think we were on a first-name basis yet, that's all."

John snorted at that.

"Because we _clearly_ just got to know each other." The doctor grumbled. "It's not like we've been acquaintances for _years_ now."

"Your sarcasm was noticed and taken into account." The red-haired man said rather forcefully, his eyes sharp as they glared into John's own. "You may stop now."

"Does it mean I have to call you by your job title too, Mr. Minor-Position-in-the-Government-witch-translates-to-King-of-England Holmes?" But the army doctor decided to push his luck a little more knowing that, because he's Sherlock's best friend, no harm will come to him from the elder Holmes brother.

Mycroft actually blistered at the long, yet strangely accurate, title the smaller man gifted him with.

"That's not funny, John." He hissed.

"Really? I thought it was hilarious myself, _Mycroft_."

The two men glowered at each other for a solid second before returning to their previous occupations: Mycroft to polishing his weapon and John to complaining about the oncoming end of the world.

"I can't believe you actually agreed to this." The small doctor muttered, his face covered with his hands. "You were supposed to be the _smart_ one, what _happened_ to being the _smart_ one?!"

"I _am_ the smart one." the man's Gentleman status didn't allow him to add the 'you twat' that _begged_ to be placed there, but John knew if Mycroft _could_ add it _and_ get away with it, he _would_. "But that doesn't stop me from also being an _opportunist_." Putting the knife up into the light to inspect it for damage, the elder Holmes continued. "I saw an opportunity to get dear old Mummy off my back for a solid month with little to no effort on my part, and I took it."

"That's really _wonderful_ , Mycroft." The sarcasm in his voice has never been thicker, nor more evident. "But could this _golden_ opportunity of yours _not_ involve allowing your irresponsible, overgrown _toddler_ of a brother control over the _United Kingdom?!"_ John then ran a hand through his hair. "Remind me again, _why_ did you thing this was a _good_ idea?"

"Stop overreacting, John." Mycroft's ever calm, ever controlled voice did _nothing_ to calm the doctor's nerves. "Or you'll give yourself a rather _nasty_ heart attack."

"Oh, so you _don't_ think Sherlock will cause mass destruction, like a five-year-old on _sugar high_ , that he absolutely _won't_ take advantage of the fact that he has the power _and_ influence to do _whatever_ he _wants_ and _nobody_ would _dare_ to stop him, and, instead, will calmly sit down behind your desk and fill out tons of paper work." The army man gave his new flat-mate an unimpressed stare and grumbled. "And here I thought _I_ was the stupid one out of the two of us."

Mycroft just let out a long-suffering sight.

"There is no need for insults, John."

John just snorted again.

"Clearly there _is_ if you still don't realize just 'endangered' the Englishman race became, the _minute_ you shook hands with your brother!"

The older man just looked at him, perplexed.

"We are endangered?" He asked, completely missing the point.

The doctor just threw his hands in the air with an anguished scream.

"Bloody _hell_ , Mycroft!"

"Alright, alright." The fox haired man finally conceded. "I do understand your concern, John. Truly, I do. But you _have_ to trust me when I tell you there is _nothing_ to worry about."

"If you can dismiss the 'annihilation of all that is human' as one would do a small _bug_ that they found on their shoe, then _yes_ , I suppose there isn't." The ex-army doctor was relentless, clearly having no intention to stop his insults before the point he was trying to make got through the older man's thick skull.

But by this point Sherlock's older brother has lost all patience he had reserved for this rather one-sided conversation they seemed to be having, and John has suddenly found his Adams apple being held hostage by a rather nicely polished, and familiar looking, knife.

"Perhaps you should actually _listen_ to me first _before_ you judge my actions too harshly, _doctor_." Mycroft's pissed off voice hissed form behind his ear, laced with more emotion than a man dubbed 'Ice Man' should be able to express. "Do you really think _I_ would just leave a man with such _disregard_ to authority and rules as my _brother_ in charge of my daily job, _without_ making sure his, undoubtedly, _irresponsible_ actions _don't_ end up _drowning_ my beautiful country?" John heard a 'tsk'. " _Despite_ what you may think occurred yesterday, the two of us actually discussed this situation in _great_ detail." He then added, as if reading the medic's mind. "Even if you couldn't hear us."

After that the stinging pressure on his neck was gone and the poor doctor could breathe normally once again. Rubbing the spot touched by the knife, John glared suspiciously at Mycroft, who appeared to be back in his place on Sherlock's armchair, polishing the damned weapon as if nothing happened.

He knows it's been a while since he last wore his military uniform, but reflexes gained from months spent on the brutal frontlines of the Afghanistan war _should have_ warned him of the upcoming attack. And it wasn't as if he we allowed those instincts to expire, if anything his time spent running after murderers with Sherlock only made them even _stronger_ , and yet, despite all that, Mycroft managed to _noiselessly_ sneak up on _him,_ an experienced _war veteran_ , without being noticed.

A trick like that required _skill_ and _battlefield_ _experience_ , two things he would have _never_ thought the older man would have. Mycroft seemed like someone who didn't like to get his hands dirty, he obviously has minions and little brother for that, so it didn't make sense for _him_ to have abilities that classify him as a _professional assassin_.

That train of thought got the blond thinking…just how _little_ he actually knew about the elder Holmes.

All he knew was what Sherlock was willing to share which, in of itself, isn't very _much_ since the curly haired man would rather choke on a _porcupine_ than speak about his older brother in sentences that _aren't_ composed entirely of curses, and things he found out on his own such as the man's fondness of umbrellas and almost Big Bother-like stalking tendencies.

But other than that?

He didn't even know the man's favorite _color_ , let alone anything concerning his past.

When John blinked again his new flat-mate has apparently disappeared into the kitchen to make some tea. Hardly a difficult deduction to make, especially with the kettle whistling to the high heavens.

The ex-army doctor smirked.

If he knew _anything_ about how a 'Holmes' works, it's that they liked to give beverage-shaped apologies whenever they thought they screwed up.

It looked like Mycroft 'Ice Man' Holmes was feeling a bit guilty about the little loss of temper and decided to offer tea as a peace offering.

That alone showed that he wasn't _nearly_ as bad as Sherlock described him to be.

His suspicions were confirmed when the fox-haired Homes appeared in the doorframe with a rather sheepish look on his face, and a tray with two steaming teacups in his hands.

Perhaps it was time John Watson heard the older man's side of the story.

* * *

AN: Hi! Sorry about the long wait and about Sherly not being in this chappy, but I PROMISE the next chapter will be ALL about that little rapscallion and his attempts to fill his big brother's shoes (cross my heart and hope to die!)

See ya soon!

JA107

Over and out!


	4. Chapter 4

"The Big Switch-a-roo."

Chapter 4

"Sherlock in politics AKA a dolphin among sharks."

Anthea, or whatever her name is, was mad at him.

Sherlock could tell from the way she was glaring at him, her piercing brown eyes for once focused on something that _wasn't_ a blackberry screen, as the two of them walked down the corridor towards the office he was supposed to take over from his brother.

And, considering that he hasn't done anything to deserve the scorn (yet), the younger Holmes felt that the hostility was both underserved _and_ unwarranted.

So he did what any normal person would do.

He called her out on it.

"You're angry with me." Sherlock's smooth baritone stated, accompanied by the annoying clicks on the woman's high heels.

"Yes." Was Anthea's only response, her eyes not leaving the general proximity of his face.

"Why?"

"I had to add 'Taking care of an Insolent Man-Child' into my schedule, without additional pay." She said bluntly. "You can't possibly expect me to be happy with more work added to my day."

The younger Holmes snorted.

"I see _someone_ is having that time of the month." He muttered placing his hands in his pockets.

Hearing that his new PA actually looked up at him and smiled.

"Oh you better get used to this, _sweetie_." She said, her tone condescending. "Most of us here have _serious_ doubts concerning this new…arrangement you proposed."

"Really? I was under the illusion that taking out the old _fat_ brother and exchanging him for a shiny _young_ new one, was a _wonderful_ win-win situation for all involved." He waved her off. "Mycroft was nearing his 'out-of-date' status, anyway, him being the old git that he is. So I basically saved you the trouble of having to smother him in his sleep, when he _inevitably_ becomes useless from stuffing so much cake down his throat." He then looked pointedly at her. "One would think you'd be more thankful for that, I practically saved my irritating brother's life."

"Mr. Holmes is England's Golden Boy." Anthea stated, ignoring his earlier quips. "Taking him out of his desk is _severely_ reducing the functionality of the _entire_ country." She raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure your feet are big enough to fill up your brother's shoes?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes with an indignant snort.

"Whatever _he_ can do _I_ can do better, I assure you." Came the childish reply from the detective, who sounded more like a little boy struggling with his 'little brother' complex.

Anthea just chuckled under her breath and shook her head.

"We shall see." She said before stopping, the sudden non-movement prompting the Detective to stop as well. They finally reached their destination.

Before them was a simple wooden door.

"So…" Sherlock began, nervously placing his hands in his pockets. "What's on today's to-do list?"

"First you have a meeting with all the world leaders." She stated automatically, already used to giving this information to the elder of the brothers whenever he didn't feel like remembering. "Regarding all the resent events that occurred and how to prevent them from happening again." The PA was already twisting the doorknob.

Sherlock nodded and was about to push the wooden door himself, when his brain reminded him of something that he failed to take into account when signing up for all this.

"Wait! _What_ resent events?! I don't watch the ne-"

But he was already being brutally pushed into the room.

"Have fun!" Came the sing-along voice of Anthea as the door was slammed and locked behind him.

Recognizing a lost battle for what it was, the World's only consulting detective sighted and turned to face the people he was going to spend the next hour or more.

In the middle of the large room he was facing stood a giant round table looking as if it was taken fresh out of a 'King Arthur' story book, only, unlike the famous one from the legend, this wooden contraption was surrounded by government heads from over a dozen other countries along with their translators.

Unlike what people usually saw on the news, something he can actually prove thanks to the few times John managed to make him watch TV, all those people were sitting quietly. Just staring at each other without a word, not really noticing his arrival.

It was obvious to Sherlock, right then and there, that they were waiting for everyone to be present so that the negotiations to properly begin.

Mainly, him.

Sighting, he marched up to the only free chair left on the table, all the while questioning his resent choices in life, and sat down on the throne-like contraption that loomed over everyone else.

It wasn't hard to figure out who occupied the position of Top Dog in this pack.

Unfortunately for Sherlock…it wasn't him.

A little fact that sent this whole day rolling down the drains.

Not really knowing what to say, like he said earlier to his older brother's PA he came in totally unprepared, the Consulting Detective was left with a single option of watching the people around him and trying to deduce why this meeting was being held in the first place.

After a few minutes of nothing happening, a curious Prime Minister sneaked a peek in the detective's direction.

And just like that…

All Hell broke loose.

Because, what do dogs do when their Alpha is missing?

They fall in to chaos.

Immediately everyone started yelling over themselves in their native tongues, translators struggling to keep up with everything being said and poor Sherlock not really knowing on who he should be focusing on.

He looked around with a panic look on his face.

What was going on?!

Why was everyone suddenly so loud?!

The poor man heard a multitude of languages all around him, from all around the world, each of them trying to out-yell the other and sending poor Sherlock into an overload frenzy.

Before the poor sod could lose his sanity, however, a pair of British sounding people could be heard somewhere to his left, so he focused all his attention on them.

"…This is a terrible idea!" A male voice argued.

"But the people demand it!" A female one countered it.

"They fail to see the cocequences such a decision will bring!"

"We shouldn't be going against the will of the UK citizens!"

"We are not having this discussion _now_ , when Mr. Holmes decides to humor his brat of a brother!"

Now Sherlock felt offended, so he squared his shoulders and smoothly stepped into the discussion.

"I think this a wonderful idea." He said, earning the attention of his fellow Britons.

The man he didn't recognize swallowed thickly, fully aware of the exchange of power between the Holmes brothers.

"Are you sure Mr. Holmes?" He asked weakly.

Sherlock's smile was predatory.

"Most definitely."

* * *

A couple of hours later, the younger Holmes stepped out for a bathroom break he spotted Anthea, who looked torn between punching him repeatedly in his high cheekbones and begging her real boss to come back posthaste.

Sherlock's mouth went dry.

"Anthea…" He managed to wheeze out. "What did I agree to?"

She then looked at him with such rage he nearly took a step back.

"Brexit."


	5. Chapter 5

"The Big Switch-a-roo."

Chapter 5

"John's annoyed, Sherlock's is in deep trouble and Mycroft _really_ doesn't want to know."

 _Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!_

"Mycro-"

"Leave it."

 _Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!_

"But it says it's-"

"I am aware of who it is, John."

"Then why-"

"I don't want to know."

"…oh."

 _Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!_

"So you're just going to let it ring?"

"Yes."

 _Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!_

"Mycroft this is getting annoying."

"Humanity does this from time to time, yes."

"… did you just insult our entire species?"

"Indeed I have."

"…"

 _Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!_

"It's not stopping, Mycroft."

"Give it a minute, John."

 _Riiiiiiiiiiii-_

…

"Ah…there. You see Jo-"

 _'Hi, Barbie  
Hi, Ken!  
Do you wanna go for a ride?  
Sure, Ken!  
Jump in...' _

"…"

"W-Wha… THAT'S NOT MY RINGTONE!"

"I believe you phone begs to differ, John."

' _I'm a Barbie girl in the Barbie world  
Life in plastic, it's fantastic!  
You can brush my hair, undress me everywhere  
Imagination, life is your creation  
Come on, Barbie, let's go party!' _

"HOW DO I MAKE IT STOP?!"

"Perhaps pressing the 'off' button would help?"

"DON'T YOU GET SMART WITH ME, MYCROFT HOLMES!"

"I wouldn't dare, dear Watson."

 _'I'm a Barbie girl in the Barbie world  
Life in plastic, it's fantastic!  
You can brush my hair, undress me everywhere  
Imagination, life is your creation' _

"PRESSING THE 'OFF' BUTTON _ISN'T_ WORKING!"

"Have you considered throwing it out the window?"

"Why would you even sugge- Can't you just hack it into stopping?!"

"I am not sure what gave you the impression that I even posses such an ability."

"Are you saying there is something the great Mycroft Holmes _can't_ do?"

"… hand me the phone, John."

 _'I'm a blond bimbo girl in a fantasy world  
Dress me up, make it tight, I'm your dolly  
You're my doll, rock'n'roll, feel the glamour in pink,  
Kiss me here, touch me there, hanky panky...  
You can touch, you can play, if you say, "I'm always yours."_

"I swear, the next time I see him I'm going to punch those high cheekbones of his so hard, he'll be mistaken for a smurf-human hybrid!"

"Please restrain yourself from bruising my brother. I'd so hate to explain to Mummy why he's more blue than not."

"Just focus on stopping this blasted song from playing, Mycroft."

 _'I'm a Barbie girl in the Barbie world  
Life in plastic, it's fantastic!  
You can brush my hair, undress me everywhere  
Imagination, life is your crea-'_

"There… it's quiet now."

"Okay… but what if they call again?"

"I fried phone's speakers. Even if they do, we won't hear a thing."

"Ah, that's goo- wait… you did _what_?!"

"I made it stop singing."

"BY _BREAKING_ MY PHONE?!"

"Yes."

" _WHY_?!"

"Is there a problem?"

"You. Broke. My. PHONE!"

"Yes, we established that, why are you screaming?"

"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO _FUNCTION_ WITHOUT MY PHONE?!"

"Not to worry, I'll get you a better one. This model is out of date anyway."

"*groans* My new phone _better_ be worth all this…"

"Would the newest IPhone suffice?"

"…maybe?"

"Very well then."

"…"

"…"

"Mycroft."

"Yes?"

"My laptop just turned itself on..."

"…"

"Some invisible force is typing in my password..."

"…"

"It opened the notepad function and it's… writing something."

"…"

"The message says… ' **Mycroft pick up the phone, I messed up big time** **and I need your help. SH'** Huh… I didn't know you could do that… since _when_ can you do that?"

"Tell him to 'sod off'."

"Tell him? As in-"

"Write it down on the notepad, he'll see it."

"Okay but… are you sure about this? I mean, whatever happened _must_ be pretty bad if _Sherlock_ admits to needing help."

" _Sherlock_ can clean up his own mess for once. He's smart, I'm sure he'll find a way to fix whatever it is he broke."

"Oh… okay then."

"…"

"Did you write that?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now turn the laptop off."

"B-But he didn't even finish writing back…"

"That is, frankly, exactly why I am telling you to turn the thing off. I _really_ don't want to know."

"Oh, alright then."

"…"

"Hey, Mycroft?"

"Yes?"

"What if they start calling _your_ phone again?"

"I believe my ringtone is _far_ more tolerable than whatever _that_ was, that my brother set for you."

"Mycroft it sounds like an _alarm clock_."

"Yes, and your point is?"

"How can that sound _not_ be _just_ as annoying to you?!"

"Simple. I don't use an alarm clock."

"Oh? And how does our little king get up to work, then? Does Anthea come in every morning and junk the covers off you?"

"No. I rely on my internal clock to wake me up punctually at 5:30 every morning."

"What about emergencies? Your phone _has_ to wake you up for _those_ using _this_ ringtone. You can't say it's _not_ annoying during _those_ times."

"Actually… I very much can."

"…what?"

"My emergency phone has 'Serenata Immortale' as a ringtone. That's why I always know if the situation I'm being called to handle is critical or not."

"…you have two phones."

"That is correct."

"Anthea knows about this?"

"…yes."

"Then what _exactly_ stops her from calling you on it?!"

"I left it."

"W-What?"

"It's on my desk, back at the office."

"Okay… why?"

"Sherlock was bound to mess something up sooner or later. I wanted to make sure I'm completely out of reach when it happens."

"…so let me get this straight: You're willing to let Great Britain fall apart _just_ so your little brother can learn a lesson or two?"

"Of course. How else would I make Sherlock learn to clean up his own mess? By cutting myself out of the equation, forcefully if necessary."

"I'm pretty sure he won't learn a single thing just to spite you."

"Yes that _is_ a rather likely possibility, isn't it?"

"Yup."

"I wish him good luck then, because no matter what he does I'm _not_ going to fix anything he messes up during his time as occupant of a minor position in the government. That will forever remain on his plate."

"Even if he promises to spend an entire month at your parents?"

"Goodness, no. I wouldn't do that to them, they suffered enough."

"Truly? How so?"

"Can you _imagine_ a child Sherlock?"

"…oh God…"

"Mhm. Now try a _teenage_ one."

"…I stand corrected, they _have_ suffered enough."

" _Exactly_ my point, dear Watson."

*A door opens and Ms. Hudson peaks in*

"Boys? Have you heard the recent news? The government-"

"Oh dear me, look at the time. I'm sorry for the sudden departing, Ms. Hudson but we have to meet Gregory Lestrade at the police station."

"But the news-"

"For a case."

"But-"

"Right now."

"If you'd just let me speak-"

"Come, Watson! We mustn't keep the good Inspector waiting!"

"…"

"*sigh* I'm sorry for this, Ms. Hudson. Wait for me, Mycroft!"

"..."

"*sighs and shakes her head* Kids these days..."

* * *

AN: I hope this isn't confusing for anyone. If it is, I apologise and promise to fix it first thing tommorow morning


End file.
